


My Husband is Dead (but that doesn't stop him from helping me parent our kids)

by voidboistump



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Ghost Lover, M/M, Single Father, dead partner, deceased partner, ghost - Freeform, patrick as a single father, what if pete and patrick were married, what if pete was dead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:15:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24026476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voidboistump/pseuds/voidboistump
Summary: Patrick suddenly finds himself a single father after his husband Pete passes away. But a year after his spouse's untimely death, he reappears in ghostly form to help Patrick parent their two young children. But how long can Patrick handle the reality of his failures and that his husband is most definitely...dead?
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Kudos: 7





	1. Literally the Most Unexpected Guest

**Author's Note:**

> Hey again, I'm sorry I'm once again plaguing the earth with my dirty Peterick fantasies. But I got this idea and I kinda fell in love with it, so I couldn't stop. Once again, I am so sorry for this. I hope you like it.

It was unusually cold for the time of year, but that didn’t bother Patrick as much as it should. There is something to be said about feeling physical cold against the skin when the most freezing temperatures are within the emotions. It was like this, as the rain started to fall and Patrick opened his car door and gathered up the bright blue bouquet of Delphiniums to make the short trek to the gravesite. Everything was as it should be, as he passed the family plot with the unusual last name. “Dankworth,” he mumbled to himself as he passed their nearly full tomb of remembrance. A slight smile lit up his otherwise dark face as he thought about how much that would make the kids smile. He nodded solemnly at the gravesites that still had no flowers, even though the date of death was more recent than the one he was headed to. Sometimes he thought about purchasing a single rose, something to place there so that they could be honored. But he didn’t know what sort of people they had been when the breath of life was in their lungs. Maybe they deserved to sit undecorated in death. 

He arrived at his destination only slightly damp as the rain started to fall harder. Everything was quiet, and as usual, everything started to disappear around him as he drank in the name on the gravestone, the color of the already fading marble, and the dying flowers in the heavy vase. 

_Pete Wentz._

Patrick knelt down and slowly took out the fragile, lifeless flowers and replaced them with the fresh ones, arranging them so they looked the most aesthetically pleasing. He was in autopilot, he could tell. But somehow he knew he couldn’t bring himself out of it even if he tried. He remembered that his therapist called it “disassociating”. He preferred to just think of it as autopilot. He finished with the flowers and sat on his knees for a while, trying his hardest to block out the memories of his late husband and just let the reality of where he was now settle in the forefront. No, he wasn’t sad. He was simply a man doing his monthly duty of keeping his husband’s grave looking neat. This was routine. This was normal. He let his gaze drift to the hundreds of other graves around him, thinking of all the people that visited those sites and left the colorful array of flowers that surrounded him. They all had the same routine. This was perfectly normal. 

He didn’t know how long he sat there on his knees, but when he started to feel the tingle of his circulation being cut off, he slowly stood to his feet and checked his watch. It had only been ten minutes. He gave one last look at Pete’s headstone, and let out a sigh. “Happy one year of death, my love,” he said, pressing a kiss to his fingertips and holding it out towards the ground. “I still miss you.” 

********************************

The happy tinkling of Patrick’s alarm brought him out of a deep sleep. He groaned and rolled over, grasping for his phone and hitting snooze. It was a fruitless endeavor, however, as he slowly woke up and became aware of all the noises in the house. The TV was blaring something that sounded like cartoons, and there was the clatter of dishes in the kitchen. The kids were already up, and they were likely to set the house on fire if he didn’t intervene. Slowly, he rolled over, letting out a groan. Everything hurt, as usual. When did he get so old? He fumbled around for his glasses and shoved them on his face, forcing himself up and out of bed. A quick bathroom break, before heading back to make his bed. Pete used to hate how particular Patrick was about making the bed first thing in the morning. Little did he know that his side of the bed would almost always stay made, since Patrick was so used to only taking up one side of the bed. 

Patrick slid on a pair of sweats over his underwear and jogged downstairs to find the kids already halfway through the before school preparations. His daughter was shoving something wrapped in a ziploc bag into his son’s lunch sack, as his son, only half-dressed, was sort of “folding” laundry in the living room and quoting the show that was playing on TV.  


“Saturn,” Patrick strode over to the TV and switched it off, “please focus on getting those clothes on your body and leave the rest for me later.” The eight year old smiled at his father sheepishly and started to pull on a shirt from the basket. 

“I packed up lunch already dad,” his daughter called from the kitchen, sliding the lunch sacks down the counter closest to the garage door, “you don’t have to worry about it.” She pranced off to her room, no doubt to try and brush on a little more makeup before school. Patrick immediately checked the lunch sacks. Sure enough, there were two cookies in each one instead of the allowed one. Patrick shook his head and removed the extras before going to pull on his shoes and jacket. The rain still hadn’t let up from yesterday, which meant...jackets. The kids would need jackets. He made his way to the closet to try and locate something for the kids to wear. 

The Alexa device blared out the warning alarm, letting the three of them know that they would need to be in the car and leaving in exactly five minutes. “ALEXA, STOP!” Delphinium and Saturn screamed in unison from their corners of the house. Patrick giggled to himself as he slung Delphinium’s jacket over the counter next to the inspected lunch sacks and chased down Saturn to put his on directly. Somehow, he was still missing clothing items, and it took Patrick a good minute to figure out that it was a single shoe, which they both started to look for. Delphinium sprinted out of her room and grabbed the coat and lunch before heading out to the garage, just as Patrick and Saturn located the missing shoe. 

Patrick manages to drop the children off at school without much of a fuss after this, sitting in the car for a couple of minutes in the parking lot and thinking about how much he needs a coffee. He had the luxury of time, since he was only working on a couple music projects that weren’t due for review for several months. Mostly, he was blessed to just figure out the mess of suddenly becoming a single father over the past year, since the band had broken up indefinitely. He wondered how much he would be judged if he popped into his favorite coffee shop in sweats. It would be nice to put in his headphones and catch up on emails for a while. 

************************************************************

A message pops up on his screen just as he sits down with his coffee and iPad. It’s Joe. 

_Dude, where are you?_

Patrick sat confused for a moment, before a sinking feeling filled his chest. He was supposed to meet Joe and his wife for breakfast after he dropped the kids off. 

_Oh shoot! Bro, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot. I’ll be right over._

Patrick quickly packs up everything he had just laid out and jogged back out to his car. He could hear his phone start ringing in his bag as he slid into the driver’s seat, and he sighed as he saw it was from the school. 

Saturn had been cussing in class again, and the teachers were getting fed up with it. Patrick would have to have a talk with him later. 

He pulled up to the restaurant several minutes later, and gathered his things before finding Joe and his wife already several waters and coffees in. 

“I am SO sorry,” Patrick said as he slid into the booth, “I really need to look into a planner or some sort of app or something.” 

Joe shook his hand at Patrick and smiled. “Bro, don’t even worry about it. We understand.” Patrick nodded a quick greeting to Marie and asked the waiter for a coffee. He definitely needed a second cup. 

****************************************************

The car ride home after Patrick picked up the kids was quiet. Saturn knew he was in trouble, and Patrick’s eerie silence definitely confirmed his theory. He didn’t even have the radio on. The only sound from the backseat was Saturn’s feet kicking the back of the passenger seat. 

Saturn tried to retreat to his room as soon as they walked into the house, but Patrick cleared his throat just as he dropped his backpack by the hook. He stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around to face his father. 

“I know it might MAKE you seem cool,” Patrick said, rubbing his eyes with one hand, “but I cannot have you cussing in class. It’s disrespectful on so many levels.” Saturn nodded and looked at the floor. He had always been a quiet kid. Patrick could see so much of himself in him. But he still wasn’t sure he’d made his point. Pete always told him that he wasn’t tough enough, and that’s why the kids kept acting out. Patrick’s mind raced with what he should say next. Should he punish Saturn? He was so terrible at this. 

“Until you learn to behave yourself,” Patrick continued, “I will be removing your TV and gaming consoles from your room until further notice.” Saturn’s eyes shot up and widened. Patrick knew he was being unpredictable, but he felt a tingle of pride at getting that reaction from his son. Saturn still didn’t say anything. Maybe the punishment still wasn’t harsh enough? 

Saturn took Patrick’s prolonged silence as his opportunity to excuse himself, and slowly started making his way back to his room. Patrick shook his head and breathed out a long sigh as soon as he heard his son’s door close. That was, most definitely, the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. The reality of that made him embarrassed. He gathered up a plastic bag from the kitchen and placed it on the table to make good on his threats, but not until after he’d calmed down with a drink. 

*******************************************************

Patrick was completely and utterly exhausted by the time he retired to his bedroom. He might also be slightly drunk, and he didn’t want the kids to know that. He locked his door and stripped off his clothes. The kids would have to deal with any problems they had from this point on by themselves, because Patrick office hours were closed. He flopped down face first onto his bed in just his underwear, letting out a gentle sigh and feeling the rise and fall of his chest for a couple minutes before rolling over and flipping on his TV. 

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed as he became engrossed in some reality show about people with too much money and too much time, but he definitely fell asleep for a while. He knew because he jerked awake suddenly and realized how uncomfortable he was lying sideways on his bed on top of the covers. He reached for the remote and flipped off the TV. Whatever time it was, the house was silent, so the kids must’ve put themselves to bed. 

Patrick stumbled to the bathroom to relieve himself and wash his face before getting back into bed the correct way, making sure to check all his alarms on his phone before resting. It was Saturday tomorrow, but he still had plans to get the kids to help him with the chores. Maybe they could all go out for ice cream if they were good. Patrick smiled to himself as he envisioned a perfect day, and slowly started to drift back to sleep. 

Just as he was starting to lose consciousness, there was a terrible crash by his window. He sat upright and looked around, his heart racing. He noticed that a pile of CDs and some lower grade equipment had been knocked off the desk by his window. The curtains blew softly, indicating that the window was open. _Shit, did I leave my window unlocked, and now there’s someone in my room?_ Patrick stumbled out of bed and looked for anything he could use as a weapon in case he needed to defend himself. There was no sign of anyone besides himself, and his door was still locked. _That must mean they’re still in here somewhere._ He flicked on his lightswitch, but nothing happened. _Did they cut the power too?_ The breeze coming in from the window was especially cold then, too cold for the time of year. Just Patrick’s luck, as the cold air nipped his bare skin and made it harder for him to think. 

Then he saw it, a faint, blue light by his deceased partner’s side of the bed. It almost looked like the outline of Pete sitting on the edge of the bed, playing on his phone late into the night like he used to. Patrick squinted, but the darkness and his poor vision made it impossible to tell for sure what was in his room. Did the intruder have...a glowstick? He crept over slowly, hands balled into fits. Then, all at once, the blue light became bigger, tracing the outline of his husband all the way from his hair to his toes. Pete looked up at him, and Patrick felt the blood drain from his face. He was dreaming, that must be it. Or maybe he was hallucinating. The stress was finally getting to him. He stood frozen for several seconds before rubbing his eyes and backing away slowly. The vision wasn't going away. Pete’s eyes lit up, and he stood from the side of the bed. 

“Patrick!” The figure smiled that signature smile that engulfed his whole face that Patrick loved so much. Patrick couldn’t handle it anymore, and the last thing he remembered is Pete running to him and asking him if he was feeling well before he hit the floor.


	2. You Shouldn't Be Able To Touch Your Own Headstone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick finds the ghost of his dead husband in his room. He's just as confused as Patrick is about the whole thing.

Patrick slowly opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was that his head hurt. The second thing he noticed was that his dead husband was holding him, his head propped up on his lap on the floor. It wasn’t a dream, or if it was, it was the most detailed and lifelike dream he’d ever had. Pete had a weird glow to him, and his skin was so cold. It felt like he’d been outside in the snow for several hours, but he didn’t have the flushed cheeks that he should have had if that had been the case. Patrick stayed in that position for a few moments, enjoying the realness that he was feeling, even if it was a dream. He didn’t want to wake up. He closed his eyes again and let his body relax, trying to pretend like he wouldn’t wake up. 

Pete ran his hand through Patrick’s long hair, and Patrick thought about how he really needed to get it cut, about how tomorrow was Saturday and Pete could watch the kids…

“What do you think about keeping an eye on things while I get a trim?” Patrick mumbled softly, almost as if he would wake himself up if he spoke too loud. He could hear Pete giggle. 

“Well, considering you’re the first person to be able to see me, I don’t know how the kids are gonna react.” Patrick furrowed his brow at his husband’s comment and shook his head slightly. 

“What are you talking about?” He opened his eyes and was met with a gentle kiss on the forehead. 

“Babe,” Pete struggled to continue, “You know I’m…” 

Patrick felt instant nausea and sat up, wincing at the pain that suddenly increased in his head as he did so. “What is this? Am I dreaming or not?” He pulled himself to his feet and walked over to the lightswitch again, flipping it on and off rapidly to no avail. 

“I’m really sorry about that,” Pete said, “for some reason that kinda just happens around me now.” Patrick sighed loudly and walked over to his nightstand and turned on his bedside lamp, grabbing his glasses and shoving them onto his face. He moved back to Pete, still sitting on the floor, and kneeled down to examine him more closely. Everything was normal, the same eyes, the same hair that had grown out to his shoulders, the most beautiful lips Patrick had ever kissed. The only thing that was different was a strange blue glow coming off of Pete’s skin. Speaking of skin... Patrick placed his hand on Pete’s cheek. Yes, ice cold to the touch. 

“I need to wake up,” Patrick started to pace and ran his hands through his hair. “I need to wake up I need to wake up I need to wake up!” He felt like crying, punching a hole through the wall, and screaming all at the same time. Pete ran over to him and gently gathered him into his arms.

“Hey, hey now,” Pete squeezed Patrick tightly to get him to stand still, “It’s alright, just listen to me.” Patrick never felt more grounded than he did when he was in Pete’s arms. Cold skin or not, it was the same as it’d always been. However, it didn’t stop him from reaching his hand down to his arm and pinching it hard. The pain was just as real as the pain in his forehead. 

Pete pulled him over to the bed and sat him down, taking a seat next to him and taking Patrick’s hand in his cold one. “I need you to listen and try not to freak out, okay?” Pete looked into Patrick’s gaze and waited for his response. Patrick didn’t know what to do, but he nodded after a few moments. There was nothing else for him to do. Once Pete was satisfied that Patrick had calmed down enough, he cleared his throat and focused on a dark corner of the room. 

“I’m a ghost, Patrick,” Pete said, his voice echoing through the quiet room like a gunshot. Patrick felt sick again, but he managed to keep himself focused as Pete Continued. “I just kinda remember...waking up and it was dark. And there was a lot of noise and pain. I don’t want you to worry though! It’s a bearable pain.” Pete glanced over at Patrick, his face looking almost as white as Pete’s. “I know this is a lot for you to take in, but I just want you to know that I’ve been looking for you. I’ve been trying to get back to you since the moment I woke up again. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long. But I’m here. I don’t know what to do next, but I’m here.” Patirck felt a tear come down his cheek that surprised him so much he slapped it away. Pete felt like he would break too if he had to watch his husband cry anymore, his sweet, sweet husband that must have been in so much pain for the past year. Pete planted a gentle kiss on Patrick’s cheek, and then moved to kiss his soft lips, for the first time in a year. It was the most amazing thing Patrick had ever felt, despite the temperature of Pete’s skin. The world was right when he was there. Patrick knew he wasn’t dreaming now, and he slid his hand up around Pete’s neck as he kissed him. 

When it was over, Patrick smiled the most effortless smile he’d had in a long time. Everything was happening really fast, but he could figure it out with his partner by his side again. Pete tugged on Patrick’s hand. “I want to figure this out with you,” Pete said, “I want to figure out why I needed to find you again.” Patrick nodded.

There was a knock on Patrick’s door, and Patrick nearly jumped out of his skin. Pete’s eyes shot to the door, and Patrick stood to unlock it, letting it swing open. Saturn was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he pushed past Patrick and flopped onto his bed without saying a word. He often came to sleep with Patrick when he was having a hard time sleeping. He might be getting too old for this behavior, but ever since Pete passed, Patrick had been less strict with him about “growing up” and being more independent. Patrick watched as Saturn rolled over and looked directly at Pete, but there was no reaction. Saturn closed his eyes and fell back asleep in a matter of seconds. Pete was right, for some reason Patrick was the only one who could see him. 

Pete gazed fondly at his son for a few moments, looking like he might start crying too. The two of them silently tucked Saturn into the covers and made sure he was in a comfortable position so he wouldn’t get pains in his neck when he woke, and snuck out of the room. Pete sat on the counter in the kitchen and opened a soda, chugging it down. Patrick smiled at the urges to scold Pete, usually annoyed at his manners but in light of the current situation, he was just glad to have those urges back. 

“Let’s go to the graveyard,” Pete said, downing the last of his soda and throwing it like a basketball into the trash can on the other side of the kitchen. “I think the answers are there.” Patrick shivered, but nodded his head. 

“Okay, let me just call my mom.” 

****************************

The sun was starting to come up as the two of them pulled into the gates of the cemetery. It took a while to get out there, since Patrick had opted for the nicer cemetary outside of town and in the hills a little bit. He said it was quieter out there, and he found himself enjoying the hour drive every week to change out the flowers and wipe down the marble on Pete’s stone. He and Pete had been having the most lighthearted banter, just as if they’d never stopped having long drives together. Patrick felt his phone chime as he parked the car. 

“Mom says she just got there and the kids are still sleeping soundly.” Patrick slid his phone back into his pocket as they got out of the car. Pete looked out at the gravesites and his smile faded. He was quiet for a while as Patrick started to lead them toward Pete’s plot. 

“I should have known you were going to put me somewhere fancy like this,” Pete said to Patrick as they walked. 

Patrick smiled to himself. “I wouldn’t have settled for anything less than the best.” 

The usual trek felt so incredibly wrong with Pete walking just a few feet behind him. Somehow, Patrick almost felt embarrassed at the things he usually thought about when he came out here, but he didn’t know why. It was almost like he was talking bad about Pete’s friends behind his back. But that made no sense, since some of these people had been dead since before Patrick was born. 

They arrived at Pete’s place, and Patrick motioned to it and let Pete pass him. Pete stood over it, his mind racing. He bent down and touched his gravestone. Patrick wondered how that must feel. 

Several moments passed before Pete rose to his full height again. Patrick could see that he was struggling for words to say. “Well,” Pete sighed, “I don’t really feel any different. Maybe we should just go home?” Patrick nodded, turning around slowly and starting to walk back towards the car. He heard Pete jogging to catch up with him, before he slid his hand into Patrick’s so they could walk together. 

“Tell me more about, ya know, the whole waking up thing,” Patrick asked as they started to drive back towards the house. “Maybe there’s some clues we just aren’t seeing right now.” Pete nodded and turned the radio down as he looked at the road ahead.


End file.
